


I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

by makesometime



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, Love Confessions during Sex, Love at First Headbutt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: “No.” He breathes, chewing on his lip to force down a smile. “No, you still barely tolerated me then.”“And you always claim to be so good at reading people.”
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 32
Kudos: 82





	I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackmoonalcolyte (jomipay)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/gifts).



> This started out as something silly, a cracky little look at their first admissions of love. And then it got really soft. Which I'm blaming on these idiots.
> 
> Thank you Jo for inspiring me when I got stuck, and for a couple of lines that I almost wholesale stole from our chats <3<3
> 
> (Title from I Found by Amber Run)

Oscar gasps, winding his fingers tighter in his hair. It sets his nerves alight, tingling at the base of every strand that he clutches at and he gasps again, arching into the thrust of Zolf’s hips. His other hand flails out, unanchored for a moment before Zolf catches it up, the platinum band on his finger digging into Zolf’s weather-hardened skin just _so_.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He murmurs, the curses tripping off his tongue with a haste that he doesn’t have time to be self-conscious about.

Zolf smirks - he can’t see it through his screwed-shut eyes, but he knows it all the same. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing so well for me. Taking me so well.”

“ _Gods._ ” Oscar gasps on a half-laugh. It’s never felt like this before. Never once. Never so overwhelming, all-consuming. Never so right. “Gods, Zolf, _I love you_.”

He feels, in a terrible instant, like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Zolf stops, hips flush against his ass, and he cracks open his eyes to see a look of such absolute surprise on his lover’s face that he almost wants to laugh.

“What.”

He struggles for a moment, to find his voice, to know what exactly it is that he _should_ say, what it is that he _can_ say. It’s not exactly how he imagined this moment, after all, and with Zolf filling him so exquisitely, consideration and sensible thought are hardly his strength right now.

“Zolf, I—.”

“Do you mean it?”

There’s something in Zolf’s eyes. He takes a moment to parse it - a light, an anticipation, a _want_. Oscar smiles, just a little, a small quirk of his lips. _Oh_ , that’s reassuring.

“I do.” He says, breathless and grinning at the way Zolf’s cock _throbs_ inside him, the way Zolf’s hands squeeze around his fingers, his hip. “I do. I love you.”

Zolf laughs, giddy with it. “You can fucking choose your moments. You sure it’s not just because my cock is in you?”

“Mm, dearest you do have such a delightful cock, but no.” He laughs, clenching around Zolf. “It’s not just because of that. It’s because I _love_ you.”

Zolf draws out, desperately slow, then thrusts back in, hard. Zolf’s grinning now, something almost manic about it, as he works them both back up, slow, slow and deep and steady and _hard_ and Oscar loses any hope he had of remaining compos mentis.

“Love you too.”

Oscar grins, feeling flush with a similar energy to his lover. “You do?”

Zolf growls, leaning over him and forcing his hand back into the pillow beside his head. “I do. Gods know why.”

Oscar stares up at Zolf with the sort of adoration that he’s been so scared of showing in the past, even to Zolf, even with everything shared between them to this point. He watches Zolf drink it in, wide eyes hungry with intent and slides his free hand down to curve over Zolf’s lovely arse.

“How long?” He asks, his words quick and stilted, rocked by each of Zolf’s thrusts.

Zolf’s forehead meets his chest, and he feels a gust of air over his skin. A disbelieving, woozy sort of laugh. “Longer than you’d think.”

He wants to know more, to ask _when, when Zolf tell me_ but he’s too lost in the impact of Zolf’s hips to his ass, the possessively tender squeeze of Zolf’s fingers around his, the sweat sliding down his cheek. There’s time. There’s always time, now.

“ _Gods_.” He breathes instead, hitching his legs higher, around Zolf’s chest, crossing his ankles over the rise of Zolf’s arse. “Come in me, love. Come on. Give me everything.”

He smiles through the flare of pain as Zolf sucks hard at the base of his throat, cradles the back of his lover’s head and bears down until he feels Zolf shudder, giving two firm thrusts and then stilling. Oscar arches, rubbing his cock over the swell of Zolf’s belly and following him with shivering pulses and a desperate, drawn-out moan.

He’s starting to feel slightly uncomfortably sticky when Zolf smiles into his skin and leans a chin on his chest to look up at him. “Remember that first quarantine at the inn?”

Oscar thinks, hard, pushing himself back through memories of a hundred different quarantines, each more troubling than last. The first time in the inn, once they got the antimagic field set up and he was finally able to take off the cuffs, if only for a week… he remembers, now, how light that had made him feel. How free, despite being trapped behind bars with a grumpy dwarf who just wanted to be getting things done.

He remembers singing, quietly to himself, not even aware that Zolf was awake. That week was the last time he sang, for what feels like an age. He’d felt alive. Really alive. He remembers turning, finding Zolf watching him from the bed with something inscrutable deep in those gorgeous green eyes. At the time, he’d thought perhaps he’d been irritating…

“ _No_.” He breathes, chewing on his lip to force down a smile. “No, you still barely tolerated me then.”

“And you always claim to be so good at reading people.” Zolf teases, stroking a hand up the sweat-sticky length of Oscar’s arm.

“Not you, apparently.” He says, aware that it sounds slightly petulant. “Well, at least it’s only been what, a year for you?”

He blinks as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Shit. For a moment Oscar dares to hope that Zolf is so lost in their lovely little afterglow that he won’t notice, but then he smiles, all soft in that private way that only Oscar gets to see.

“How long, Oscar?”

“It feels rather uncouth to admit to love at first sight, but…”

Sometimes Zolf looks at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world and it leaves him breathless, and this time is no exception. The tenderness of the way Zolf cups his cheek makes his heart thud uselessly hard in his chest.

“All that time.” He says, and it’s not really a question. Oscar nods, a quick little jerk of his head. “Why didn’t yo—.”

Oscar brings his hand up to cover Zolf’s lips. “Let’s not, love. We can’t go back and change anything. Let’s just enjoy now.”

Zolf presses his lips to Oscar’s fingers and nods, resting his head down once more. It is easy to ignore the discomfort of their post coital embrace for a little longer in exchange for the knowledge that the last of their invisible barriers are down, now. It feels heady and grounding all at once, to find himself finally on an even footing, ready to push on and finish this with Zolf at his side.

“I love you.” He says again, into the messy top of Zolf’s head.

“Love you too, Oscar.”

If he is certain of nothing else, Oscar knows he will never tire of hearing that.


End file.
